


Harry Potter and the Ship Wars

by JonRiptide



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crack, Hogwarts Fifth Year
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:21:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25712737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JonRiptide/pseuds/JonRiptide
Summary: It's fifth year and, for some twisted reason, the Ministry is trying to force Harry into a date with Pansy Parkinson. Dumbledore will have none of this, and instead proposes a pairing of his own. What will happen when more people start pushing for their own pairings?
Relationships: Cho Chang/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Harry Potter, Pansy Parkinson/Harry Potter, Susan Bones/Harry Potter
Comments: 26
Kudos: 29





	1. The Harmonic Lessons

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. DISCLAIMER. The obvious. I do not own anything. Thanks to Ms Rowling for giving us such wonderful stories, even if I don't agree on her recent statements.
> 
> 2\. This story was inspired from a reddit prompt
> 
> 3\. Shipper characters are intentionally OOC in certain traits, but rest of people should be their Canon selves.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A plan is set into motion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Thanks a lot to SnowBear17(ffnet) for helping me beta this story.
> 
> 2\. Any error here is mine and not from my reviewer. If you spot anything or have a doubt about the grammar used or plot just PM me, I'm always swift to answer.
> 
> 3\. Enjoy

Minerva McGonagall kept the door open long enough for Harry Potter to leave her office. She did follow the boy's path until he turned onto the next hallway, but she was quick on returning to her desk afterwards. It wasn't until she was comfortably seated that she removed her glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose, reading over the note the boy had brought with him.

If they ever doubted that this Umbridge woman was going to be a complication, all of that had vanished after Mr Potter's visit. Apparently, it had taken just one class for the woman to assert her territory and make it clear that she wasn't going to budge an inch. Dolores Umbridge was dead set on the Minister's deceitful agenda, and they would have to tread lightly around her.

Of course, Mr Potter hadn't made things easier by going on and antagonizing the woman at the first opportunity. Still, Minerva couldn't say she was surprised. The boy had a temper to him and what he was going through couldn't be ignored. A part of her wished Dumbledore would be clearer with him, yet he insisted he had his reasons to keep Potter completely in the dark.

Minerva finished putting the last notes on her outlines for the upcoming classes, then stood up and made her way towards the headmaster's office.

"Pumpkin Pasty," she said to the gargoyle once she arrived. At the sound of the password, the gargoyle turned around and revealed the passage to Dumbledore's office.

The place was its regular self, with shining silvery objects scattered in a hectic order only the headmaster could understand. Not far away, an empty perch caught her attention, for there were no signs of Dumbledore's trusted phoenix. The headmaster himself was peacefully seated behind his desk, going through some documents as the portraits around him mumbled about a dozen different topics. Minerva hoped Dumbledore wasn't reading the Daily Prophet, for he wasn't going to find anything of value in this morning's issue.

"Oh Minerva, please take a seat. I'm glad you received my message," the old wizard said. His blue eyes were not twinkling, something that surprised Minerva and alerted her about the upcoming situation. Minerva always knew when there was something important to discuss as Dumbledore's eyes would be, for once, serious.

With a calm nod, Minerva sat down.

It was then that she saw what the headmaster was reading. It wasn't a document, but a bright pink book. When Minerva saw the title her eyebrows went up faster than a Quidditch broom, a small noise of disbelief escaping her. The book was labelled ' _The Magic of Love: How To Turn That Long-Running Friendship Into Something More._ '

A sudden cough came to her.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his eyes peering through his glasses at Minerva.

"Yes, perfectly. Thank you," the professor said hurriedly, not daring to meet the headmaster's eyes.

There was no way Dumbledore could be interested in her, not romantically at least. It was unheard of, at least at their age. Besides, she had always thought Dumbledore was more interested in wands than in cauldrons, so to speak.

"Are you sure?" he persisted as he conjured a glass of water and levitated it towards her.

Taking it politely, Minerva sipped from the glass at once. "Yes, it was nothing. Please carry on," she assured him, barely daring to look at him over her glasses.

The headmaster arched an eyebrow but decided to let it go. "Everything in order with this week's classes?" he asked, moving the book to the side and putting his hands together.

After vanishing her glass of water, Minerva straightened her robes, deciding to pretend as if she had never seen that book. "As much as it can be," she said. "Although, I wouldn't dare to say we're equally prepared for our new Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor."

The headmaster nodded solemnly, then adjusted his half-moon spectacles. "A valid statement. Nevertheless, I must say, if we give Professor Umbridge no reasons to stretch her connections with the minister, the situation might be much more bearable for everyone involved."

"It wouldn't hurt to repeat that to a certain heedless Gryffindor."

Dumbledore raised his eyebrow, if only a little, seemingly surprised. "Harry? Is he having problems with Dolores already?"

"Did you expect anything else?" the witch answered tiredly as she handed him Umbridge's note of complaint.

Minerva couldn't help but glance quickly at the book resting on the man's desk. It was a given that the book didn't have anything to do with her, she realized, relieved. The situation had just taken her off guard. But why was the greatest wizard alive reading such a sort of book? Minerva couldn't really tell. She turned to the man, looking for clues, but he was focused entirely on Professor Umbridge's note.

The accusations in that paper couldn't be less relevant to Minerva, and the house points she took from Potter were almost a triviality. However, detention on the first day of class could only escalate higher. She didn't know what other situation Umbridge could take advantage of. They certainly could use some caution now.

"I see," Dumbledore said once he was done reading the note. "We must try to minimize any conflict between Harry and the minister's envoy then."

"Easier said than done, Albus. You know him, overly noble but incapable of stepping down if he perceives any injustice. It would be reckless to not plan for the scenario where Mr Potter says the wrong thing."

"I'll keep an eye on it. Please inform me of any new development. Let's hope it's all unjustified fear and it doesn't come to anything serious."

Minerva agreed, though she knew that keeping Harry Potter from doing anything rash was as hard as trying to force a bludger to remain still. It was an admirable trait, what the boy could do for the sake of a good cause, but by Merlin, he could use some self-control.

"Albus, why did you want to see me? Is it too foolish to hope for good news?" she asked after a moment of silence, avoiding a look at a certain pink book.

"I wish that were the case. No, I'm afraid we're only getting started with this year's challenges."

"What do you mean?"

"I got a troubling report this morning from our contacts at the Ministry. Cornelius' most recent offensive has been set into motion, and it's the foulest of plans!" Dumbledore said loudly, his voice reflecting his indignation.

Minerva waited, making it clear to the headmaster that he should continue. She knew she wouldn't like this new tactic, whatever it was, but it was of the utmost importance to be prepared.

Albus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "My sources tell me that the Ministry is attempting a secret play right under our very tables. A play to get Harry on a date with Pansy Parkinson," said the headmaster in the most serious of tones.

To say Minerva was shocked would be an understatement, but Dumbledore didn't seem to give any indication that he was joking.

"I beg your pardon?"

"As you heard Minerva, Cornelius has somehow gotten this idea that if he can get Harry tangled with someone of his liking, then he can handle Harry's public image as he pleases. Taking control of Harry and the world's perception of what transpired last year in a single bold stroke."

"But... that's idiotic!" she lashed, her eyebrows knitting together angrily.

Was the minister that out of his senses? This was obviously the most dim-witted plan she had ever heard of. How did he expect Harry to agree to date Pansy Parkinson of all people? Minerva was very much aware the Slytherin girl was nowhere near Potter, romantically speaking. And, if by some ill-fated miracle it came to be, how could the minister make practical use of that to achieve his plans? Surely there must be literally _hundreds_ of better plans, and most of them less contrived, and more likely to work.

Dumbledore didn't seem to share her opinion, for he looked rather worried. Surprised that he seemed to be taking this seriously, Minerva wondered what Dumbledore saw in the minister's awful plan.

"It's a real menace, as unbelievable as it might sound. And Pansy Parkinson of all people! It's beyond me how people might think this could work, especially when it was certainly conceived thinking of the worst possible match for the boy," Dumbledore said quickly, looking more angry than usual. He seemed to make a big effort to relax his demeanour before turning back to Minerva. "You do realize this would be catastrophic if allowed to happen, don't you?"

"Albus… I don't think there is anything to worry about. Mr Potter can be reckless but he wouldn't fall for such a tactic. Give the boy some credit."

"Oh, I agree. Harry is a pretty capable young man. Still…"

"Still?"

"We must be extra cautious. Our stance is not the best, and I don't want to make it worse by underestimating our opponents."

The portraits of all the past headmasters in the room voiced their agreement in different tones, yet all of them seemed to support Dumbledore.

"Are you taking this seriously then?"

Dumbledore nodded solemnly.

It was madness, yet it didn't seem like Minerva could talk him out of it. "How do you even plan to counter this? Do you want me to give Mr Potter a warning?"

"Oh sweet Merlin, no!" the headmaster boomed incredulously. "Of course not, Minerva. The boy has too much on his plate without knowing of this evil scheme against him. This vile, _despicable_ scheme! There's no need to involve him, especially when we can neutralize the threat by ourselves."

Minerva frowned, unsure of where this was headed, yet she asked all the same. "Then what are you proposing we do?"

"Simple, we set Harry with a match of our own choosing," the headmaster offered smugly, with a tone that made it seem as if it were the most sensible option they had.

Minerva was dumbfounded. "I don't think I'm following you, Albus. I hope you're not implying what I think you're implying."

"Think about it, Minerva. It's what Cornelius least expects! He has everything set for this Pansy Parkinson pairing travesty, this… this... _Hansy_! As I believe it should be called," Dumbledore started, struggling to pronounce ' _Hansy_ ' through his gritted teeth, as if it was a filthy word.

"But—"

"Think about it, Minerva! Wouldn't it be quite a surprise for Cornelius to find out that, while he was pushing for this horrid match, someone else came and stole Harry's heart? Someone better. Perfect, if you ask me."

Minerva lowered her eyes and rubbed her forehead with both hands. "You really are serious. Merlin help us! You want us to push a student to date another one?"

"Why of course! The very war depends on it!"

"The war—? Merlin, Albus…"

It was too much to handle. Many times people had suggested Dumbledore might be a little off his marbles, but she had never considered their words until now. Nevertheless, what was Minerva's alternative? Let the minister win? Voldemort? Too much depended on the man before her.

"And I imagine you already have a candidate to beat Miss Parkinson to Potter's heart?" she ventured.

"I do, yes."

"And who might that be?"

"It surprises me that you even have to ask, Minerva. There's only one true answer. What we need is _Harmony_ ," he said, a smile creeping onto his face.

" _Harmony_?"

"Yes, Miss Granger is the answer. You see, Harry and Hermione's names mix to form the word Harmony. Quite clever, isn't it? I came up with it myself," he said, looking chuffed with his idea.

"Miss Granger?"

"What's so hard to believe about it?" the headmaster followed in a suave voice, as if he were a salesman trying to convince her to buy his latest cauldron model. "Miss Granger and Harry have been friends forever. They're passionate and understanding of each other's position, and very supportive of one another. They would both benefit from a relationship that can't be anything but lovely, never mind saying prosperous for the war efforts. Think of it, _The-Boy-Who-Lived_ having _The-Brightest-Witch-Of-Her-Age_ as his partner and closest ally! It's what epic tales of good versus evil are made of!"

Minerva seemed to be getting dizzy with the headmaster's odd enthusiasm in match-making. "I'm not sure, Albus. She's already one of his closest allies, I don't know how having them snogging in the hallways would improve that," the professor answered sternly. "And besides, there's the matter of Mr Weasley, as I imagine you must have noticed."

With a quick motion of his hand, the headmaster set that thought aside, as it was unimportant rubbish. "That's water under the bridge. Mr Weasley had his chance last year. He's helpful to Harry, but the boy has rude manners and is too rough around the edges. Let's not forget his disdain for schoolwork. Not right for Miss Granger, not at all, what with the endless bickering and that sort of behaviour. Actually, I dare say Mr Weasley would be much happier with a more comfortable partner, Miss Brown perhaps? You surely have to agree."

_Comfortable for Mr Weasley or for Dumbledore's chosen match?_ Minerva wondered, before letting out a soft breath.

When she had made her way to the office moments earlier, she never thought they would be having a conversation like this. Why were they discussing student pairings as if it was a more urgent matter than dealing with Dolores Umbridge, or with Voldemort for that matter?

The headmaster noticed her hesitation, for he pressed on. "Why Minerva, you surprise me. I thought you would be eager to jump in the _Harmony_ train at once. It's not hard to notice your affinity for Miss Granger."

"I do not play favourites. And the fact that I have great faith in Miss Granger's approach doesn't mean I want to push her to date this boy or the other. She seems pretty capable of making her own decisions."

"Oh, I agree. Wouldn't like it any other way... in peaceful times. However, in the present situation..." the headmaster continued, in a tone that had a certain giddiness to it. "We must act soon. And it would be nearly impossible to succeed without your full support."

A sigh of pure heaviness escaped her. She rubbed her forehead once more, a mild headache coming to her. "I don't know, Albus. To me, their relationship has always looked more akin to that of siblings."

"Relationships change all the time," answered the headmaster with a smile, patting the pink book Minerva had all but forgotten.

"That book—"

' _The Magic of Love: How To Turn That Long-Running Friendship Into Something More_ ,' Minerva read once again. Dumbledore raised the book as if it was some sort of magical weapon.

"It's a treasure!" Dumbledore proclaimed, wielding it like a sword. "Everything's in here! It will be our blueprint!"

Minerva McGonagall didn't like this, not one ounce of it. Even so, she had to admit the headmaster might know more of the matter than she did. Maybe Cornelius had other ways of fulfilling his goals, maybe this whole dating tactic was a smokescreen. In any case, she knew she couldn't deny her help to the man.

At least she was entirely sure that he didn't want anything romantic with her, which was a dragon-sized relief.

Already feeling at odds with what she was going to say, Minerva sighed. "Very well. And what do you propose I do?"

Albus Dumbledore's smile enlarged, like that of a boy who had just been told he could have a second chocolate frog. "Marvelous! I was starting to fear you would never ask."

When Harry made his way to the Transfiguration classroom, he had a pretty good idea of what to expect. All the other teachers had made use of a long speech detailing how difficult this year was going to be, so he guessed a mandatory O.W.L.s warning was in order. As much as he dreaded the idea, he imagined a long essay to be assigned as homework wasn't out of the realm of possibility either. However, the class turned out to be unpredictable to a great extent. He at least wasn't expecting the shirts.

The first sign that something was off came as soon as he crossed the door. He was walking with Ron towards their usual desks, when the voice of Professor McGonagall stopped them in their tracks.

"Mr Potter?"

"Er, yes professor?"

Harry wasn't sure what this was about. Did it have anything to do with his detention with Umbridge? It was unlikely, McGonagall would've said something the day before if that were the case.

"I would like you to take this seat today, if you don't mind," the professor said, somewhat uncomfortably. She gestured towards a desk at the very front of her class.

It was unusual, yet he didn't see a reason to refuse. "Sure, no problem."

Ron was about to follow him — which spoke volumes considering how much his friend hated the front row — when the old witch stopped him. "You can stay in your place, Mr Weasley," she said, looking apologetic. Then the professor's eyes found Hermione, as her hand signalled the place next to Harry. "Miss Granger? If you please."

Hermione raised an eyebrow, yet she nodded and took the offered seat. "Do you know what this is about?" she asked him, once there. She had been avoiding them since breakfast, when Ron made a joke about her house-elf hats looking like woolly bladders. However, the curiosity was greater than her previous annoyance.

"Not really, no."

At the time, Harry didn't give it much thought. It was surely nothing, and, as he had expected, the professor went right into talking about the O.W.L.s.

"You cannot pass an O.W.L.," said Professor McGonagall grimly, "without serious application, practice, and study. I see no reason why anybody in this class should not achieve an O.W.L. in Transfiguration as long as they put in the work." Neville made a sad little disbelieving noise. "Yes, you too, Longbottom," said Professor McGonagall. "There's nothing wrong with your work except lack of confidence. So…" the old witch stopped mid-sentence, turning to look at Harry and Hermione, then sighed. "We'll be starting Vanishing Spells. These are easier than Conjuring Spells, which you would not usually attempt until N.E.W.T. level, but they are still among the most difficult magic you will be tested on in your O.W.L."

Hermione was quick to move her book to the right page, even though Harry imagined she must've read about those spells in advance. Nevertheless, those plans changed when Professor McGonagall went on. "However, we're going to start with vanishing in our next class. I have a different task for today. A small project if you would like to call it that."

Curious looks were exchanged as the students turned their heads to the professor, caught off guard by the statement.

"A project she said?" someone asked in the back.

"What's about?" another replied.

Professor McGonagall didn't look pleased. "If you pay attention you'll know soon enough, Mr Finnigan."

The mention of Seamus made Harry frown. His classmate had made it quite clear that he didn't believe him about Voldemort's return, choosing instead to trust the mockingly false words of the Daily Prophet.

With a flick of her wand, Professor McGonagall conjured a large roll of parchment, then moved to stand in front of Harry and Hermione's desks. "May I ask you two to put your given names on this parchment? Large letters, please. One side for Mr Potter and the other for you Miss Granger," she said heavily. "If you can be so kind."

It was an odd requirement, granted, yet nothing overly suspicious. Hermione and Harry did as they were told, and then the professor walked back to her desk with the roll of parchment that had their names in large letters. Harry noticed that Hermione's was less messy and more flourished than his.

Professor McGonagall put the roll on her desk then tapped her wand on it a few times. " _Geminio_ ," she muttered each time. Once she was done there was a stack of parchment on the desk, each one with Harry's and Hermione's names on it, he imagined.

Whispers echoed from the back, wondering what the whole thing was about. Harry was curious as well, and next to him, Hermione's eyes were narrowed. The girl didn't want to lose a single flick of the teacher's wand.

"I suppose everyone remembers how to turn parchment into fabric," she said, more as a statement than as a question.

Harry's eyes widened. It was the first Transfiguration class of the term and his memory was more than foggy. It would be challenging enough to remember those lessons with a clear mind, but worrying Hagrid's whereabouts and the excruciating amounts of homework they were getting made it much harder. His upcoming detention didn't help either. Even so, a few people had no problem remembering and nodded at the professor's statement, no one as vigorously as Hermione.

Suddenly, Harry remembered what it was like to sit next to Hermione in class.

"Very well," McGonagall continued, taking that as a yes. "Let this little task help you as a reminder. We're going to practice not only substance but shape as well. I'm going to hand each one of you a roll of parchment, but I don't want a square piece of fabric by the end of the class. No, I want a complete shirt."

"A shirt?! With sleeves?!" A few students voiced their complaints, and there were more than a few grumbles and groans.

"Yes, Mr Weasley. Shirts are expected to have sleeves. Two would suffice."

"B—But…."

"I imagine you have used shirts before."

"Er… Yeah," mumbled Ron.

"Alright, no misunderstandings then."

Another voice came from the desk at Ron's side. "Professor, we haven't done anything like that."

Professor McGonagall huffed. "I'm very proud of my memory, Miss Patil. And I do recall going over shape Transfiguration. Extensively."

"Not a shirt, though."

"I do have confidence in your skills, Mr Thomas. I would hope you do too," the professor replied. "Now, there's no need to fret over it just yet since I still have to tell you the most complicated part."

"There's more?" Harry heard Lavender shriek in the back, reflecting more or less what he felt at the moment.

Professor McGonagall chose to ignore the interruption. "You see, each parchment has two words on it," she said, holding one of the parchments for all the class to see. Harry could see his and Hermione's names very clearly. "Your task will be to rearrange the letters to form a new word. Let me show you what I expect from this assignment."

Holding the piece of parchment with one hand, Professor McGonagall proceeded to flick her wand and transform it into a medium-sized yellow shirt. It was, as Harry expected, flawless in shape. That was not all of it though, for it had a single word emblazoned on it in large pink letters: _HARMONY_.

"You may choose whatever colour you like," the teacher said.

" _Harmony_?"

"Yes, Miss Brown. You do know the meaning of the word, I presume?"

"Yes, but— _Harry and Hermione_?"

The whole class was looking at them, and Harry tried to pull himself down on the chair. However, as he soon found out, it was hard to hide in the front row of the class. What was the meaning of this lesson? He wondered.

Professor McGonagall ignored the whispers and went directly to the mechanics. Explaining the letter rearrangement, which was the part they were going to have more trouble with. Her face showed no signs of joking and was instead dead serious. Harry couldn't stop himself from remembering Voldemort pulling a similar trick with some letters at the Chamber, changing his muggle name to the one he picked for himself. He got an uncomfortable sensation from his scar as the events of the previous year came back once more.

"Are they a couple or something?" someone asked from the back.

Harry's thoughts of Voldemort vanished at once. He turned to Hermione, scared and blushing. Hermione's eyebrows had gone up and she appeared to be just as embarrassed as Harry.

"Yes, Miss Patil? What's bothering you?" the professor asked, rather annoyed.

"Nothing, professor. I was just wondering if Harry and Hermione were a couple, what with the project and all… It's nothing…"

Professor McGonagall could've moved on with the lesson, but for some wicked reason, she decided to add, "They're not a couple. Not to the best of my knowledge. Not yet at least."

_Not yet,_ she had said.

The whispers went wild, and someone — who sounded very much like Ron — was coughing hard in the back. What was McGonagall doing? Did she want to replace the rumours that he was crazy with rumours that he was dating Hermione? He had enough of that rubbish last year, after Rita Skeeter's article.

This whole shirt task sounded like the barmiest of ideas, to be honest, and it wasn't McGonagall's style at all. How in Merlin's beard did she even come up with it?

Harry only saw Hermione as a friend, nothing more. It had always been like that. Actually, the only girl who had Harry's attention at the moment was Cho, and the last thing he needed was the Ravenclaw hearing this kind of gossip. He imagined Hermione felt the same, she had never said otherwise.

"We're not. Harry and I are just friends," Hermione hurried, a frightened look on her face as she turned to the back. She talked out loud without raising her hand for what seemed like the first time ever.

Professor McGonagall only nodded, trying to keep the whispers to a minimum. Nevertheless, Harry still heard them running wild throughout the class.

Making an effort to not pay attention to the new round of mumblings, Harry focused on his task, which was quite daunting. It didn't help that the whispers intensified each time he asked a question to Hermione. His friend's cheeks went pink more than once, and she tried to keep her eyes on her own parchment.

The non-stop whispers made Harry wonder about the twins' products. He wasn't thrilled about the use of Fainting Fancies or Puking Pastilles but, worryingly so, they seemed like the lesser of two evils at the moment.

In regards to the creation of the shirt, Harry was having some trouble, but he wasn't the only one. He noticed Dean's shirt was missing the letters and one sleeve, while Neville made something that looked much more like hairy trousers than a fabric shirt. Next to them, Seamus got a large square that said ' _Harmonica_ ' instead. Ron grunted at some point and ended up with shreds of fabric instead of a shirt.

As the end of the class approached, only Hermione had completed the shirt, though she was still missing the letters. She was asking the professor for some pointers with them. Harry turned to his own work. It was shirt-shaped, sort of, though it was just a single layer of cloth. More of a desk cover than an actual piece of clothing.

"Let's turn this into a week-long project," the professor announced. "I will go over your results by next Tuesday. There will be no essays for now, but I do expect each one of you to have a completed shirt by then."

After that, the class was dismissed. Harry saw Parvati and Lavender whispering about something as they left.

"What was that all about?" Ron asked pointedly on their way out.

"I don't know," Hermione answered, "It was rather… unusual."

"Sure, too bloody unusual," he replied, sarcasm all over his words.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know what I mean."

"I don't, so please explain it to me."

Hermione had turned to Ron with a daring glare as if preparing herself for an argument. Harry saw Ron's initial surprise, but the expression was quickly replaced for one of annoyance once the redhead got a glimpse at the yellow shirt Hermione was holding.

Bracing himself for the argument, Harry rubbed his temple.

"Rita Skeeter's article, last year it—"

"Oh please!" Hermione interrupted Ron as she walked to stand before them, and the three of them stopped as she faced him. "Are you really going to bring that up? I thought you knew better."

"So it's not true? You two aren't—"

Hermione flushed wildly. "Of course not! Harry and I are just friends, more like siblings really. It's stunning that you even have to ask."

After a brief pause when Ron seemed to be taking his time with those words, he turned to Harry.

To say that Harry was annoyed would've been an understatement. He had more than enough trying to put off the lies spread by the Prophet, now he was supposed to defend himself against the rumours about him and Hermione. Again? And from Ron, of all people?

"Do you really want me to repeat that?" Harry threw at him, exasperated.

"You knew about this shirt thing?" asked Ron, crossing his arms.

A frown came to Harry. "Oh sure, McGonagall shares all of her class material with me before each lesson. Asks for pointers, I reckon."

"Whatever," Ron said finally.

The three of them were heading towards the Great Hall when Harry realized the amount of homework they had already. So, to their ever-increasing bad lucks, he and Ron had to spend lunch hour in the library. Hermione didn't join them, as she was still shirty about their earlier conversation.

Perfect. Just what Harry needed. Homework and arguments. And he still had Umbridge's detention to look forward to. He didn't know what to expect from that one, but it couldn't be more dreadful and embarrassing than what he just witnessed at Transfiguration. Could it?


	2. The Building of Ships

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Competition emerges

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I'm not dead, here's an update. As promised, I am slow.
> 
> 2\. Thanks a lot to SnowBear17(ffnet) for helping me beta this story.
> 
> 3\. Any error here is mine and not from my reviewer. If you spot anything or have a doubt about the grammar used or plot just PM me, I'm always swift to answer.
> 
> 4\. I have a twitter account "@TimeTravelFFics" where I publish updates. I wander around HPfanfiction on reddit as well.
> 
> 5\. About my other stories... I am going through them. I have some chaps finished and waiting on my beta's side.
> 
> 6\. Enjoy.

Filius Flitwick arrived in the staffroom five minutes before the hour, noticing that most of the professors were already there. Pomona was engaging in a joyful prattle with Professor Burbage when Filius took his usual seat next to Septima. Across the room, Severus was waiting indifferently for the meeting to start, while Rolanda eyed everyone as if suspicious.

As anyone who had spent any time with Rolanda Hooch could tell, it was a given that something was bothering her. Filius wondered if it was the meeting — after all, a staff meeting so early in the term was certainly unexpected.

"Say, Septima, any word on the topic?" he asked.

The tall witch raised both of her eyebrows slowly, giving Filius a curious smile. "None so far. We're still waiting for Minerva. I had hopes that you would know more about it."

After a small sigh, Filius put both of his hands on the table, drumming his fingers lazily. He proceeded to greet his fellow professors, which was a comfortable matter even for a man of his height thanks to his elevated chair.

Pomona soon dropped her chatter about her new batch of mandrakes to address the whole table. "Do you think this is about our new _colleague_? I heard she wasn't invited to this meeting."

It would be a lie to say that the thought hadn't crossed Filius' mind. Dolores Umbridge had made it clear during the welcoming feast what kind of role she ought to play, so it was reasonable that the meeting could have something to do with her.

"Is that so?" Septima asked, furrowing her brow.

"You could say so. Mr Potter is in detention with her as we speak — a fact I'm sure Minerva was perfectly aware of when she scheduled the time for this meeting."

"Detention already?" asked Filius. "But it's only the second day."

"I can't say I'm surprised. Mr Potter is quite a spirited young man," Rolanda said with her usual blunt tone.

Severus broke his silence, clearing his throat. "We all knew what to expect from the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. As for Potter, the boy was reckless, as usual."

It was true that they had all been warned about Dolores Umbridge days ago. However, Filius had hoped for more time before the woman became an issue. His hopes had been misplaced, apparently.

"What was the offence?" asked Septima, intrigued.

Severus answered with his usual drawling tone. "Potter spoke out of order in her class. About last term's... turn of events."

The room's mood sobered. Cedric Diggory had been one of the most diligent students Filius had ever taught. From what he could tell, the boy had been just as admired outside of the classroom by his peers as well. It was a hard loss, especially considering the despicable manner of his demise.

Pomona, who understandably looked the most distressed, almost spat out her next words. "It's the first time I hear of detentions for telling the _truth_."

Filius nodded knowingly.

It was then that Professors Grubbly-Plank and Babbling entered the staffroom. Apparently, they had run into Minerva just moments ago and it seemed like the deputy headmistress wouldn't be taking much longer to arrive.

"I reckon Minerva has plenty of work that's keeping her back. What with those unusual projects of hers," Rolanda said, seemingly annoyed.

"Projects? What projects?" questioned Filius.

"Oh, you haven't heard, professor?" asked Burbage, "It has been going around, Minerva's cheeky lesson. Earlier today she centred a whole class around Mr Potter and Miss Granger, trying to frame them as a _couple_ if rumours are to be believed."

That took FIlius off guard. Just that morning he had reviewing Summoning Charms with the Gryffindor fifth years and hadn't noticed anything off with their behaviour. Filius adjusted his glasses, frowning slightly. "Oh, well, that's… Are you certain? Maybe a student exaggerated the situation."

"I heard the same thing, from multiple accounts," added Rolanda, her scowl deepening. "Not sure what's she up to, but there's something suspicious going on."

Severus turned away as if riled up, apparently not pleased at all with the new conversation. Meanwhile, the rest of the room brought Filius up to speed concerning Minerva's ' _Harmony shirts_ '. To say Filius was worried would be an understatement. This type of behaviour was unusual for Minerva McGonagall, but all of the professors seemed to agree on what had happened, so there had to be some truth to the rumours.

Naturally, Filius had to spare a thought about Cho Chang. The girl had been close to Mr Diggory and must have had a dreadful summer. Nevertheless, Ravenclaw students had been talking about the apparent chemistry she shared with Mr Potter — some even mentioning that it was only a matter of time before they got together. If that was so, Filius saw no reason to distress her even further by trying to push Mr Potter and Miss Granger together. Especially if the boy was interested in Miss Chang as well, as some thought.

Most of the conversation that followed dwelt firmly in gossiping, which Filius didn't usually care for. Regardless of that, he did exchange some knowing looks with Septima. Others were less subtle. Pomona and Rolanda weren't shy about expressing their distaste in pairing Mr Potter with Miss Granger; while Professor Babbling babbled with Professor Burbage about the possible ulterior reasons for Minerva's lesson. Only Professor Grubbly-Plank, who, besides being firmly on Dumbledore's side, was still not that familiar with the staff, refrained from commenting. The old witch was sipping her tea discreetly when the door opened again.

Minerva came into the room, striding quickly. Two professors came after her; Professor Sinistra, who promptly took her seat, and Professor Trelawney, who did so after telling Minerva about crystal ball budgets for the umpteenth time. Poppy and Madam Pince weren't required for most meetings and Hagrid was away; since it was irrational to expect Professor Binns to show up, Filius realized they were now complete.

Once in her seat, Minerva spoke plainly to all the attendants. "I apologize for the delay. There was an incident with a fanged frisbee," she said.

She didn't need to say more. All the professors understood perfectly.

Once explanations were out of the way, Minerva eyed each of the professors, as if studying them. Then, she let out the heaviest of sighs and straightened herself. "I called this meeting to discuss an urgent matter — not academically related, I'm afraid."

"We thought so. Is this about _the woman_?" asked Pomona. She didn't need to specify.

"No, not directly. Although, I take I don't need to reiterate my earlier warnings. Do not antagonize her if you can help it."

"What is this about then?"

Minerva appeared to be struggling with her answer. She rubbed the bridge of her nose before doing so. "There's a new ploy by the Minister. A ploy to take over control of the public story of what happened during the start of the summer."

If Minerva's expression was any indication, Filius knew he wasn't going to like this new development.

"Which is…?" Professor Babbling pressed.

"The Minister wants to _control_ Mr Potter with an insider of sorts. He's planning on having Miss Parkinson establish a romantic relationship with him, and use her as leverage."

Filius blinked and shook his head slightly. He couldn't possibly have heard what he thought he heard.

"Should we take that as a joke?" asked Professor Grubbly-Plank incredulously.

"Unfortunately, no. It's true."

"That's lunatic!" said Professor Sinistra. "Is the man out of his mind?"

Septima's eyes had widened in shock, and she turned to Filius, looking for someone to tell her that she had heard wrong. Regrettably, Filius couldn't offer her any reassurance. He remained just as dumbfounded as her while arguing unfolded across the room. Some, like Pomona, were outraged; while others were still trying to process the announcement. Severus kept his words to himself, but he huffed forcibly. It looked as if he had heard of this already.

Minerva cleared her throat, trying to regain the reins of the conversation, "We don't have much time. Professor Umbridge might end Mr Potter's detention earlier to see what's this about. We need to set some points straight. Albus has an eye on the Ministry but he needs us to counter this at Hogwarts."

"Counter this? I don't think I'm following," said Septima.

"He has the idea that our best course of action is to set Mr Potter with Miss Granger before the Ministry's efforts with Pansy Parkinson come to fruition. Effectively cancelling the Ministry's ill attempts on Mr Potter's situation."

"Albus is buying this?" Professor Grubbly-Plank asked, incredulously.

"We need to support him," Minerva urged, "We know the Ministry is lying."

Severus snorted, breaking his silence at last, "We know the aconite is poisonous and you don't see me glueing my lips together as a solution," he added with a sneer.

"Severus…"

"No, Minerva. I have already told Albus what I think of this _clever_ plan of his," Severus said, standing up, "If that's all there is to this meeting, I'll excuse myself. I have matters to attend."

And with that Severus left the staffroom. The rest of the professors were left glancing nervously at each other in the silence that came after. None more than Professor Trelawney's whose eyes, magnified to the extreme by her bottle-bottom glasses, showed anxiety.

"So this is what you were up to. With those ' _Harmony shirts_ '," said Rolanda, crossing her arms over her chest.

To Filius, it seemed like Minerva's cheeks had gone slightly pink in embarrassment. It was plain she was struggling with Albus' course of action as well. She rubbed her forehead and nodded, "That's why Albus wanted me to talk over with you. He thinks a united front will be the best way of ensuring a relationship between Mr Potter and Miss Granger."

"A united front? You mean you intend for us to do the same you did with those shirts in our classes?" asked Professor Burbage.

"Not you, Charity. You don't have Mr Potter in your class, only Miss Granger," Minerva said, "But yes, that's a general idea."

"Outrageous!"

"Have you considered that Albus might, er, be wrong here?" Filius asked.

"Of course I have; who do you take me for? I know how this sounds. But Albus is our only hope in this war. He knows more about it than any of us do. If he thinks this can help, well, I'll give him the benefit of the doubt."

"It's still forcing a student…"

Minerva was a staunch defender of the headmaster though, and she wasn't about to back down. "We're not _imperiusing_ them! It's just a push. In the end, they'll decide. Wisely, I hope."

Filius huffed. There was nothing wise about this. The man took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, then put them back on. This was a difficult choice. _A push_ , she had said. Coldly, Filius knew he could consider it; however, as the head of Ravenclaw, he was obliged to support his own house. And he knew the intentional heartbreak he would be causing Miss Chang if he joined efforts with Minerva.

A long time ago Filius had been young as well. Even with his condition, he knew what heartbreak felt like. _Especially_ with his condition.

Cho Chang was a sensible girl and could find common ground with Mr Potter, if the boy decided to open up to her. She was loyal, something FIlius knew the boy treasured. And if that wasn't enough, there was Quidditch. She had more in common with Mr Potter than Miss Granger, that couldn't be denied. Even from a practical perspective, Miss Chang made more sense. If they already liked each other it would be faster to get them together than to attempt to build a romantic relationship with Miss Granger from the ground up.

"Why Miss Granger, though?" asked Pomona sceptically, voicing Filius inner thoughts. "It could be any other girl besides Pansy Parkinson."

"It's the sensible option, Albus thinks."

"Sensible my pot bottoms!"

Filius jumped a bit at Pomona's expression. Even so, he knew the head of Hufflepuff was right. It didn't have to be Miss Granger specifically.

"If you allow me the comment, I too disagree, Minerva," Filius dared say. He made up his mind, and continued. "I don't see the reason for this plan. But, if it must be, then we ought to be thinking of Miss Chang. Not Miss Granger."

"Cho Chang?"

Septima nodded uneasily, so at least Filius wasn't alone in his argument. "I'm aware there's already some attraction between them. That's the sensible option."

"It's unfair for the poor girl, what you're trying to do here, Minerva," Septima added hesitantly.

The head of the meeting found herself suddenly outnumbered. And, based on her expression, she hadn't been expecting that. She had probably been prepared for people refusing, like Severus, but not for people putting forward better alternatives to Miss Granger. Minerva stared at them blankly. "Filius… we can't divide efforts."

"Then you should try changing Albus' mind," he answered, deciding to stick to his choice. "If you continue to push for Miss Granger, then you'll leave me no other option than to even the field for Miss Chang."

There was a sudden standoff between Minerva and Filius, when neither of them dared to look away. He usually agreed with his colleague, which made the present situation most uncommon, but this was something Filius just couldn't support. The other professors weren't blinking, for fear of missing an important moment.

"Oh, my… well…" mumbled Professor Trelawney in the background, "I don't foresee a good outcome from this."

Rolanda rolled her eyes.

Professor Babbling broke the tension. "I'm with you, Minerva. We should trust Albus."

"In that case, I'm with Filius," said Professor Sinistra.

"And so am I," added Septima.

Gratefully, Filiius nodded at the professors. Septima didn't have Mr Potter in her class, but the support was appreciated. There would be harder obstacles to overcome after all, such as Mr Potter and Miss Chang being in different years. But that was a matter for later anyways.

At last, Minerva sighed. "Very well. I'll bring Albus your concerns, Filius. What does everyone else think of this? Pomona?"

"I'm sorry Minerva, but I can't. I don't think Miss Granger is the right choice."

Minerva McGonagall's shoulders tensed at the growing opposition. "But are you sure? Miss Chang…"

"Is not my choice either," Pomona said with a dignified tone.

Filius' eyes widened. "Then who—"

"Susan Bones."

Minerva's spectacles almost fell to the floor as she cried, "Oh, Pomona, in the name of Merlin's socks, what are you playing at? The girl has barely exchanged two words with Mr Potter!"

"That's about to change. I've heard Susan was more than impressed by her aunt's retelling of Mr Potter's hearing. She's planning on asking him about the Patronus Charm," Pomona said triumphantly with a hint of playfulness to her voice.

"She'll speak barely five more words to him then," Minerva argued. "Pomona, you're not making any sense! What makes you think Mr Potter would be interested in Miss Bones like that? I understand Filius' choice, but yours is nothing but wasted energy."

Filius had to agree with Minerva here. The suggestion of Susan Bones' came out of nowhere. Still, when he turned to Pomona, he noticed her smile was rather smug. "You'll see. Susan is a kind girl. She might be no Quidditch star, or the top of her class, but she's a simple girl with a tender-heart who won't vex Mr Potter with needless worries. She's capable of being a better friend to the boy than Miss Granger; and without a condescending tone to her."

"This whole thing with Susan Bones is based on suppositions. Mr Potter doesn't know anything about the girl aside from her name. He hasn't even given a second look to the colour of her hair."

"I disagree with that," Professor Burbage interrupted. "I know Susan Bones more than you do Minerva. I support Pomona."

Pomona Sprout's smile increased tenfold.

"Have it your way then," Minerva said at last, exasperated. Then turning to the other side of the table, she looked wearily at the remaining professors. "Wilhelmina?"

Professor Grubbly-Plank was uncomfortable at being put on the spot. The elderly witch looked around nervously, looking for a way out, then adjusted her position. "Er, well, I don't know these students as much as you do. Professor Dumbledore brought me here though, and I trust his judgement. The man is unconventional, and by Merlin is he eccentric! Sometimes he may not make much sense at first, but regardless, he's usually right at the end. I'm with you, Minerva."

Minerva nodded, a faint smile coming to her. Then she raised her eyebrows. "Rolanda? You have been serious. Let's hear from you."

It was true. Rolanda keeping to herself wasn't usual. When Filius turned to her, he noticed she was frowning and still had her arms crossed. The woman rolled her eyes as she let her frown go, then she stood up. "I have heard enough of this charade. I'm leaving."

After a few quick strides, she was gone. All eyes were on the remaining vote, Professor Trelawney. She had been a Ravenclaw, so Filius felt hopeful that they would outnumber Minerva. However, Sybill was too much of an oddball, which meant nothing was certain.

It took a moment for Trelawney to notice the attention and she was almost frightened by it. She had both hands together, an inch away from biting her nails. Her disproportionate glasses made it noticeable when her eyes went one way or the other. "Er… I…"

"Sybill?" Minerva pressed.

"You're with Miss Chang, aren't you?" asked Pomona derisively.

"Of course not!"

Filius didn't expect such an outright refusal. His expression sobered and let out a little squeak, unwillingly.

"Then I can count on you?" asked Minerva, with cautious hope.

"No, I don't think so."

"It's Susan then?" asked Pomona eagerly.

"Who?" a confused Professor Trelawney asked.

Impatience didn't suit Minerva, whose brow was strongly held together. "Please don't tell me you have a fourth proposal."

"None of that. As I have always said, only early death will have Mr Potter. So, if you excuse me, I'll take consult with the Third Eye to see if there have been any changes to the matter of his upcoming gruesome death."

Minerva sighed heavily; a massive headache was evidently coming to her.

When everyone left the staffroom soon after, there was only one thing certain to Filius, and that was that they could forget about a united front. In spite of it, he was convinced that he had made the right choice. Now, he needed to see how to fix the damage already done by Minerva, and prepare for any further plan of Albus.

As he made his way to his office, Filius Flitwick grew more confident. He was a Ravenclaw, he possessed the skills to defend Miss Chang's rightful place from those who wanted to wrong her. After all, _wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure_.

Considering his rushed dinner and almost-non-existent lunch from the day before, it was a real shame to skip breakfast. However, in the current state of things, Harry just couldn't find a way around it.

It was the start of the third day of classes, and the Gryffindor fifth years already had an insane amount of homework. Finishing McGonagall's blasted shirts was just the start of it. Harry still had to finish a drawing of a bowtruckle, along with an ever-growing list of essays that were promising to keep his nose in a book for the foreseeable future. It was because of it that he spent his entire breakfast period coming up with believable entries for his dream diary. Harry had Divination first, so it was the most urgent thing to do at the time.

Ron joined him, as he hadn't done anything for Professor Trelawney's class either. It was suspicious, to say the least. Ron didn't have detention with Dolores Umbridge, so he didn't have an excuse for not doing his work the night before. When Harry pressed him on the matter, Ron just rambled on about having been busy doing some other things.

"How was detention, anyway? What did Umbridge make you do?" Ron asked at some point.

Startled, Harry hid his hand and threw a hasty excuse at him, which Ron thankfully seemed to have bought. His detention with Umbridge had kept Harry from doing any work the night before; it had been too fresh in his memory to think about anything else. Now, several hours afterwards, Harry still didn't know what to make of it.

What could have driven the woman to pull out such madness for detention? And, most importantly, what had compelled Harry to not say anything about it?

Harry did his best to keep it out of his mind, to only focus on his schoolwork before he had to go to her office again and pick up that dreadful quill. The other professors didn't make it much easier.

It was a mystery as to what had compelled Professor McGonagall to act as she did on Tuesday, but whatever it was, Harry was certain Professor Sprout had it too. Harry had barely taken two steps into the greenhouse when the plump professor made him sit next to Susan Bones. Not satisfied with that, she then sent Hermione to the opposite side of the room with an almost disdainful look. It didn't stop there, as throughout the whole class she kept expressing that harry and Susan would make a lovely pair.

"You're doing well, Mr Potter. However, if you take Miss Bones' help, you'll find better results," Professor Sprout told him, giddily. "As her head of house, I know Miss Bones. You'll find her company as soothing as this Dittany here. Better keep that in mind, eh?" The professor patted their hands and winked at them.

Harry was gobsmacked, while Susan's eyes bulged in surprise before she hid behind her auburn hair.

The class moved forward after that note. Whispers echoed louder inside the glass building that day, or so it had seemed to Harry. In the back, Hermione was arguing with Ron about something, which may have had something to do with Professor Sprout's attempts at sidelining Hermione in class.

"Do you know what she's up to?" Harry said, finding the courage to ask Susan.

Susan eyed him curiously. "Not really. She's never been like this. It almost feels like she's trying to—"

"Match us up, yeah. Figured as much."

"Which doesn't mean anything, since you're with Hermione Granger, and—"

Harry was so stunned that he almost let his hand rake fall to the floor. "I'm what now?"

"You're dating Hermione Granger, aren't you? All Hogwarts is talking about it."

It was unbelievable. Everyone had been resisting so bloody much the idea that Harry might be telling the truth on Voldemort's return, but here they were, believing this rubbish of a rumour so easily. Knowing his luck, Cho might've heard about this already.

"I'm not, Hermione is just a friend!"

That came out too loud. The whole greenhouse went silent at once, and then the gossiping resumed, noisier than ever. A wide smile appeared on Professor Sprout's face. "Now Mr Potter, I don't think you need to yell to the whole class to tell Miss Bones you're available. I'm sure she will be more than delighted to talk about your blossoming relationship outside of this class."

Harry tried to stay as silent as possible. Susan kept mostly to herself as well, looking bashfully at her own work. Once class was over, Harry was quick to try and get out of there, but not before Ernie Macmillan had caught up with him.

"Hey, Potter, I see you're interested in Susan. I can put in a good word for you at the common room if you need it," the boy said, patting Harry's back.

"Er, I'm not— I don't— no thank you, Ernie," Harry answered awkwardly, getting more annoyed than ever.

It was almost a relief to have so much homework, because Harry skipped lunch gladly. The prospect of a gossipy Great Hall was too much to bear. Ron and Hermione joined him at the library, even though Hermione had already finished her bowtruckle drawing.

They worked mostly in silence, until Ron cleared his throat hesitantly. "So, uh, about Susan Bones…"

"Not you too! I don't know what got into Professor Sprout, really," Harry said heatedly, earning a reproachful look from Madam Pince for his volume.

They went back to their work for some time. Eventually though, Ron came back to the topic. "I'm just saying, mate. It wouldn't be a dreadful thing if you and Susan… you know. She's far from being a bad choice."

Hermione, who had been reading silently across from them, huffed. "What makes her a good choice, precisely? You don't know two things about her, Ronald. Or are you judging her solely by her looks, as you did with Fleur Delacour?"

"Is Susan a horrible person? A Death Eater in disguise, perhaps?"

"No, not that I'm aware of but—"

"I don't get why are you biting my head off then," Ron complained with a frown. Hermione returned to her book begrudgingly.

"She seems nice, but I'm not interested," Harry answered tiredly, raising an eyebrow at Ron. "And besides, since when are you so set on pairing me with Susan?"

Ron managed to pull a casual shrug. "I'm not. Don't know the girl. It's just— well, I reckon she's a better option than Hermione."

A loud thud echoed as Hermione slammed her quill down, looking quite hurt. "Oh, of course she is! Because I'm such an awful choice by all means!"

"That's not what meant. I, well, see— it's not like you—"

Hermione scoffed. "What? It's not like I'm a girl? I thought we had already cleared that up last year."

"I only said it because it's Harry. He's just your friend, didn't you say so? Or are you telling me you'd be up for a good snog with him after all?"

"Oh, for crying out loud!" Hermione exclaimed standing up, saying a quick sorry to Madam Pince for the noise before taking a large breath. "Just so it's clear: Harry is my friend. Nothing more. As you ought to know, Ronald. And regardless, why are you so irked at the prospect of someone being interested in me?"

"I, er, I'm not—"

"Precisely. That's why it's none of your business."

After that, Hermione left them alone, still looking furious.

"Fine," muttered Ron. He looked upset as well, but Harry had the sense to not bring that up.

After lunch, Harry saw his hope for a regular Transfiguration class vanish as effectively as McGonagall's Vanishing Spells. Like the previous day, the old witch insisted on seating Harry next to Hermione and, once again, confused Lavender and Parvati as to who they should be gossiping about. McGonagall spent the whole class giving Harry and Hermione odd hints, as if they were a couple. It made Harry think the old witch had lost her marbles. Once the painful ordeal was over, Harry hurried to the grounds, for once not minding that Hagrid wasn't the one teaching them. And much to his annoyance, Ron and Hermione were barely on speaking terms.

Either way, whatever break Harry had been expecting from Professor Grubbly-Plank's class didn't come. For some twisted reason, the professor decided to pair him with Hermione as well, telling them that a couple with a bond as special as the one they had would do much better working together. She then dismissed Ron's attempt at joining them, saying Harry and Hermione would do better without him.

Draco and his group had made fake kissing sounds, mocking them. Even Pansy Parkinson was there, so Harry hid his hand under his sleeve and made an effort to ignore all of them.

Once the excruciatingly long class ended, Ron hurried back to the castle, Harry and Hermione almost running to even catch up with him.

"There's something seriously off with this. Professor McGonagall's tone in her lessons is turning ludicrous. And now this!" Hermione said to Harry as she looked nervously at Ron.

"What? Are you mad Sprout isn't supporting your love as well?" Ron almost spat at them.

Hermione retorted back and, just like that, a row between Harry's friends exploded. It was getting on his nerves, really. How come everything seemed to be revolving around Harry's love life now? He wasn't even interested in Hermione like that, or Susan for that matter. Couldn't people just focus on more important things? Like Voldemort, perhaps?

The discussion between Hermione and Ron ended with the boy scoffing and hurrying away, but not before saying, "Fine. You two can work by yourselves on Astronomy. I'll just be a bloody bother anyway! You have such a special bond, mind you."

"Oh, for Merlin's sake! I didn't say that! Ronald, come back here! Ronald!" Hermione shouted, but Ron had already left. Hermione was too disgruntled to run after him and Harry wasn't in the mood to even try.

As it turned out, Professor Sinistra didn't seat Harry next to Hermione nor to any other girl. He shared a desk with Neville, but that didn't mean Astronomy was a comfortable class by any means. Professor Sinistra kept going on about how it was written in the stars that Harry would follow his heart and ignore outside forces. She then told him privately that she knew about Miss Chang, and that he would do good in trying to get closer to the girl. Unlike Hermione or Susan, Harry actually fancied Cho, but he was still annoyed to be told so like that.

It was official. The entire school had gone bonkers. And that was without counting what was happening in his detentions.

The brief dinner Harry had before heading to Umbridge's office was something he wished he could have skipped, even though he was feeling wonky and light-headed after missing so many meals.

"Have you heard? ...Yes, Granger, thought he got bored of her last year…" a voice said not far away.

"You're nuts! I heard he has it bad for Susan Bones. A Hufflepuff in his year, look, that's the one…"

Harry kept shoving mouthfuls of food as fast as he could, hoping to be done with it already.

"Don't mind them. You know it's not true," Hermione whispered to him at one point, yet that only fueled the rumours even further.

When Angelina Johnson came to complain about him not getting Friday off for Quidditch trials, she mentioned that Harry might be too distracted playing around with his prospective girlfriends. Harry had enough and bolted away.

Detention wasn't better than the day before. Dolores Umbridge looked especially displeased and put him swiftly back on his task.

"Tut, tut, we can't mind those unknowing rumours out there, can we? Better get back to work. Let our message sink in," she said, eyeing the awaiting quill.

Forcing himself to stay quiet, Harry took the quill and got on with it.

Thursday wasn't better at all. Harry had spent the night writing pending essays, and now he was as sleepy as Hermione who was still knitting hats for the house-elves. Hermione had asked the professors about their behaviour, but she only got shifty answers and increased whispers. Ron was talking to them again; however, his tone was distant and he avoided any kind of conversation about the new lessons. It didn't help that the professors had only acted worse in their classes.

Professor Flitwick had joined in on the nonsense as well. During his Thursday class, the short professor sent Harry to give a note to Cho. Professor McGonagall didn't appreciate him interrupting the sixth year Ravenclaws class, but she still allowed him to deliver the note.

"Thank you, Harry. It's nice to know," Cho said, blushing once she read the note before she hurried inside.

Harry was left wondering what was precisely on that note Flitwick had given him.

The rest of the professors weren't much subtler. Only Snape, thankfully, seemed to be going about normally. Something was seriously off with the world if Potions was Harry's favourite class all of a sudden.

It was in that vein that the whole day passed and, after another dreadful detention with Umbridge, Harry went back to the Gryffindor tower. He was hoping not to find it too crowded. He didn't want to deal with the stupid rumours about him making up Voldemort's return, and he wasn't particularly thrilled at the ones regarding his love life. Harry just wanted a peaceful moment for himself, something to distract him from what was going on in his detentions.

"Ron?" Harry asked, confused, as he found his friend on the way up, just by the statue of Lachlan the Lanky. He was clutching his broomstick, which he hurriedly attempted to hide from Harry. "What are you doing?"

"Er, nothing," Ron replied shiftily, with the same distant tone he had used all day.

Harry frowned. "You still mad? It's a bit unfair that you're being a prat because of some rubbish that's not even our fault, don't you think? But if you're going to be like this, fine, I'll just—"

"No, I'm good," Ron said in a not very convincing tone, but one that was good enough for Harry. "I'm just knackered, that's all. Long day."

After a small nod and an awkward pause, Harry went on. "What's with the broom anyway?"

Ron clutched his Cleansweep Eleven nervously. "I— Er, well— If you must know, I've been practising for Quidditch tryouts. I want to go for Keeper," He sighed and let his shoulders fall. "You can laugh, if you want to, Fred and George are surely going to."

Harry gave him the truest smile he had felt in a while. "What do you mean, laugh? I think it's brilliant. I didn't know you played Keeper. Are you good?"

Suddenly, all the sourness from the last couple of days left Ron's face as he beamed in relief. "I'm not bad," he said with a shrug, "Charlie, Fred and George have been— wait, what's that on your hand?"

In a flash of terror, Harry realized he had left his hand uncovered, and fruitlessly attempted to hide it. "It's just a cut — it's nothing — it's —"

It was of no use, as Ron had grabbed his hand and lifted it up near his face When he saw what Umbridge had made Harry write for the last few nights, there was a look of horror that came to Ron, who let go of Harry's hand as if it burned.

"I can explain!" Harry said.

"What the fuck?!"

Harry quickly went to cover the back of his hand, where freshly dried blood showed a heart circling the words "Harry + Pansy".

"Are you out of your bloody mind?" Ron almost yelled. "Pansy? What in a rat's arse do you see in her? And the hand? Did she ask you to do it?"

"It was Umbridge. It's what she's got me doing in detentions."

Harry explained to him all about the quill. He mentioned Umbridge's relentless push in convincing him that Pansy Parkinson was the only witch who could fix his "decaying image" in the eyes of the Ministry, and how he would be lucky to get the attention of such a fine pureblood girl. Harry also told Ron about the growing annoyance Umbridge held towards McGonagall and the other professors due to their latest actions.

"Umbridge said I should look to her for romantic advice because only she knows what's best for me," Harry finished, waiting for Ron's reaction.

Ron, who had stared at him wide-eyed during the whole tale, took the chance to blurt, "You're barking. She didn't say that."

"She totally did."

Once that had sunk in, Harry laughed and Ron joined him. It was bizarre, as the whole writing on his hand was far from amusing. However, the absurdity of the situation hit him with all of its weight. How could Umbridge possibly think she could convince him to date Pansy Parkinson? And with those methods! Was she truly mad?

Ron's face went dead serious. "Mate, this thing, it's wrong. You should go to McGonagall."

"And what? Have her change Pansy's name to Hermione's?" Harry said, and immediately wished he hadn't when he noticed Ron's frown. In all honesty, he knew he was being unfair with McGonagall. Harry wasn't sure what was going on with her lately, but he knew there was no way she would resort to such methods. "It won't matter anyway. McGonagall doesn't have that much power against Umbridge."

"Go to Dumbledore, then."

"He's got enough on his plate without this. Too busy with Order stuff to care about Umbridge trying to pair me with some girl." Harry said, a tinge of hurt in his voice.

Ron decided to let it go for that moment. However, just before they reached the Fat Lady portrait, he turned to Harry. "Just tell me one thing, mate. You don't actually fancy Pansy or anything, right?" he asked. "Because, really, Susan Bones is way better."

Harry smiled at having the old Ron back after the last few days. "I would rather take Moaning Myrtle to Madam Puddifoot's."

"Shut your bloody mouth. She might be listening."

And with a laugh, they entered the Common Room. Harry hoped no one had heard that, otherwise Sir Nicholas might start pairing him with Myrtle, and that's about the last thing he needed. Hopefully, things would get back to normal soon, since he couldn't possibly deal with any more romantic candidates right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: Flirting Pansies


End file.
